Witches, Recipes, and Murder Read online

  "Not if you gave it another name," Lucy said. "You were calling it a wrinkle remover, right?"

  "Yeah."

  "So fix it and call it a blemish blaster instead. You'll have teenagers everywhere drooling, young witches and warlocks alike."

  "I hadn't thought of that," I admitted. "That's not a bad idea."

  Melbourne called over to her and she had to go.

  "Wait a second," I said. "What about Natalie's note? Got any brilliant ideas about what it means?"

  "Yeah," Lucy said. "It means her kids are bossing her around, as usual. They probably left it so she'd pick up some more cookies or something on the way home. You know how kids are."

  Melbourne called Lucy again, and she hurried back to her post. He was standing by the espresso machine and waved to me.

  "Tell Trixie I said hi," he called to me. I nodded. "Let her know I'll call her later."

  I nodded again, not thrilled with the idea of passing messages back and forth between my aunt and her boyfriend, but I was glad that Trixie had a boyfriend at all. Melbourne was a nice guy, even if he was a vampire. I had to go back to Mystic anyway, it wouldn't hurt to pass along his messages.

  I'd gotten nowhere with Natalie, but I had a pretty good idea about how to fix my extract. Even if it took all night, I'd get it done. In the morning, my new blemish blaster would be buzzing all over town.

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  CHAPTER

  FIVE

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  It was already midnight by the time I looked at the clock. I let out a sigh. Fixing my extract hadn't proven as easy as I'd thought it would be. I still couldn't figure out where I'd gone wrong; instead of getting rid of blemishes and wrinkles it seemed to make them appear.

  There was a scratching noise from the front door. I'd never have heard it, being in the back room, except that Snowball had recently discovered a way to amplify her scratches when she chose to. She had apparently decided to test out her new magic for me now. Instead of the simple scratches a cat might make against a wooden door, Snowball's scratches sounded as loud as a bullhorn.

  I ran to the front door before she could make them even louder. The last thing I needed was someone hearing the noise and thinking it was some new alarm system going off. What would Sheriff Knoxx say if he showed up to the bakery only to find the burglar in question was Snowball? I unlocked the door and Snowball ran inside, a streak of white.

  "Snowy," I chided. "It's after midnight; you can't be so loud."

  "Snowy knows what time it is," she said in her small voice. She purred loudly as she rubbed her head between my ankles, her soft white fur billowing out at her sides from the run over here. "Auntie Eleanor sent Snowball to check on Mama and make sure she was still alive. Snowy assured Auntie that Mama was very much alive, but Auntie wanted Snowy to check anyway."

  I picked her up and stroked the soft fur on the top of her head. Her purring only grew louder.

  "You can tell Aunt Eleanor that I'm just fine. I'll be home very soon. I was just wrapping things up here." Just having Snowy near me made me feel better about my failed extract. Familiars were like that. They brought comfort to the witch or wizard they bonded with, often times helping them with problems and always watching over them.

  "I don't suppose that Snowy has any ideas on how I can fix my extract, do you?" I asked her.

  "Sorry, Mama," Snowy said and licked my face.

  "It's okay," I told her and kissed the top of her head before setting her back down. "Tell you what, I have some tuna in back. Why don't I close things up and—"

  Snowy was off like a streak of lightning. I laughed. Wait until she got back there and found the can in my purse unopened. She had no patience when it came to waiting for her tuna. The bell chimed just as I turned around to relock the door.

  A man stepped into the bakery. "I'm sorry," I told him. "We're closed right now."

  "Ava Rose Fortune?" he asked.

  I hesitated. "Yes? Who are you?"

  The man looked familiar somehow, but I couldn't quite place him. He had an egg-shaped head and unnaturally smooth skin. It was almost like vampire skin but not quite as pale.

  He stepped farther into the store, and I took a step back.

  "Don't be alarmed," he said. "I'm not here to hurt you."

  "That's good, because I'm not fond of getting hurt."

  He smiled. It was an uneven smile, but not without its charm. His lips just didn't look like they quite matched up with each other. His bottom lip was too small and his upper lip was too big.

  "I need your help," he said.

  "Help? Help with what, exactly? Are you having a party? You can always come back when we're open and place your order then." I wanted to get him out of the store without any problems.

  He shook his head. "Not that kind of help, I'm afraid."

  "Wh-What are you talking about then?"

  "Someone's after me. I have something they want. I need you to—"

  Snowball came running out of the back room just then. "Mama, Mama, Mama!" She stopped when she saw the man and sat back, looking up at him with her wide green eyes. "Who are you?" she asked.

  The man's eyes widened, and he immediately backed away. "I'm sorry. I've come at a bad time."

  "It's okay," I said, trying not to laugh. Was he scared of Snowball? Even though I wanted him out of here, I couldn't help but feel that he wasn't as bad as he appeared. After all, how scary could he be if he was frightened of Snowball?

  He hesitated. "You're not mixing the solution right," he said after a long pause.

  "Excuse me?"

  "The extract you're working on. You're shaking it five times, but you need to shake it at least twice as many." He licked his lips, and I noticed that his tongue was a darker shade of pink than normal. "Do that, and your extract will work."

  "How do you—"

  "I'll come back another time," he said, "when we can be alone."

  He went quickly out the door before I could question him any further. I breathed a sigh of relief when he was gone, glad that he was out of here even though he didn't seem like a serial killer. It was still unnerving to have a stranger in here after hours, and how did he know that stuff about my extract? Could he be right about the number of times I was shaking it?

  I quickly locked the door back up, my mind so focused on what he'd told me that I forgot Snowball was there until she spoke again.

  "Who was that, Mama?" Snowy asked.

  "I don't know," I told her. "Maybe a friend. Maybe a bad man. I'm not really sure."

  Snowy made a face. "Not a bad man. He was too scared to be bad man."

  "He was scared?" I muttered to myself.

  Snowy looked up at me and licked her paw. "Snowy gets tuna now?"

  "Yes, Snowy gets tuna now," I told her. "Come on." She raced me into the back room where I cracked open the can of tuna I'd intended to take home with me.

  "Mack's Bar!" I shouted a moment later, snapping my fingers. Snowy barely glanced up. "That's where I've seen that guy." He was the bartender at Mack's Bar. What was he doing here? And what could he possibly need my help with?

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  CHAPTER

  SIX

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  I waited until morning to try my extract again. This time, I shook it ten times instead of five. I put two drops on my tongue, waited five minutes, and looked in the mirror. The bags under my eyes were gone and the pimple that had been forming on my forehead vanished. The results were just what I'd been hoping for. The extract worked exactly as it should, and all because I'd taken the advice of a stranger.

  I showed Eleanor, Trixie, and my dad what the new extract could do. They oohed and ahhed over it, then I sent a quick text to Lucy telling her I'd fixed it. She texted me back a minute later with a smiley face emoticon.

&nb
sp; Knew you could.

  I spent the morning rush thinking about the bartender from Mack's. How had he known what I was doing wrong with the extract? How had he known what I'd been working on, to begin with?

  I hit my forehead with the back of my hand. "Duh!" I said out loud. He must've heard Natalie's gossip about my disastrous demonstration and somehow figured out where I was going wrong. Eleanor and my dad looked at me.

  "You all right, sweetheart?" my dad asked uncertainly.

  I quickly pulled my hand away from my head. "Yeah, just fine." I smiled at him and made a mental note to myself not to talk out loud when other people were around. I could reserve that sort of behavior for when I was alone.

  At lunch, I thought about going down to Coffee Cove and telling Lucy about the strange afterhours visitor from last night but decided against it for right now. I hadn't told my aunts or my dad, afraid that they'd only worry. It might be best if I didn't say anything to anyone at all until I figure out exactly what was going on. The guy had said he needed my help. What if he really did and I endangered him somehow by opening my big mouth?

  Even though I was wary of helping someone I didn't really know, he had certainly helped me out. I couldn't shake the feeling that I owed it to him to at least hear him out. Maybe it was a simple request. Maybe he only needed a slightly risqué cake for a bachelor party and was just too embarrassed to put in the request. Some people were like that.

  So, instead of Coffee Cove, I decided to spend my lunch hour at Mack's Bar. I'd only been there once before, and it hadn't exactly been a pleasant experience. In fact, the bartender had told me not to come back. Well, he clearly couldn't feel that way now, I reasoned, as I headed over there. Not if he was soliciting me for help.

  I opened the door and saw the bartender standing behind the bar just where I would've expected to find him. He was busy wiping down the bar but looked up at my approach. He didn't look happy to see me.

  There were only a few people in the place. Two men in business suits sat in a corner conversing in low voices. I was pretty sure I recognized one of them from COMHA. He glanced at me then looked quickly away. A woman sat alone at the bar sipping a martini. She didn't even look at me as I came in. A middle-aged man with a dark goatee and thinning hair sat in a dark corner playing with his phone. A discarded newspaper lay nearby as if he'd been reading it and set it aside. He glanced up at me then went back to what he was doing.

  "I was afraid I'd have a hard time finding you," I said to the bartender.

  He looked around before answering. "What are you doing here?" he hissed.

  "I wanted to finish our conversation from the other night."

  "And you thought now would be the time to do that?" He looked like he was ready to bite my head off. For all I knew, that was exactly the type of thing his species was known for.

  I didn't know what this guy was. He wasn't a warlock, that was for certain. He couldn't be a vampire, and a goblin was out of the question. But there was definitely something different about him. He poured me a drink.

  "I didn't ask for that," I said.

  "You can't just stand here and not drink something. It's like throwing out flares; you'll draw attention to yourself. You're already conspicuous enough, at least try to blend in."

  "It's not my fault I'm here," I said. "You ran out of the bakery last night leaving me with more questions than answers. I didn't know if you'd be back. There wasn't much of a choice other than coming down here."

  He grinned. "I wasn't sure if you'd remember me."

  "You're kind of hard to forget."

  "You didn't seem too eager to hear me out last night. I figured I was doing you a favor by leaving when I did."

  "Well, you figured wrong."

  He rolled his shoulders back and took another look around the bar. His eyes hovered on the guy in the corner with the goatee, then flicked quickly to the woman sitting alone. She looked up and shot him a smile, revealing far too many teeth in her otherwise normal-looking mouth.

  "Hey, how did you know what I was doing wrong with my extract?" I asked him.

  His eyes darkened. "It was a guess."

  "A guess?" I asked skeptically.

  He looked around the bar again. "It's not safe to talk here," he said, lowering his voice so that I had to lean in to hear.

  "There's only like four people in here."

  He shook his head. "You don't listen very well, do you? This isn't a safe place." He paused a minute, and I realized that Snowy had been right when she'd said he was scared. "We'll talk, but not here. You're already drawing way too much attention to me."

  "Fine," I said. "Where and when?"

  "Downtown Sweetland. Tomorrow at noon outside Knobs and Broomsticks."

  Knobs and Broomsticks was one of the more popular shops in Sweetland Cove.

  "Won't there be too many people around?" I asked.

  "The more people, the better."

  I shook my head, confused. "I thought you didn't want anyone to see us talking."

  "Wrong. I don't want certain people to see us talking. The bigger the crowd we're in, the less likely it is that we'll be singled out."

  I sighed. I already had enough going on in my life. Did I really need to add clandestine meetings to my calendar?

  He looked around again. "Drink your drink," he said.

  "I'm not thirsty," I told him.

  He rolled his eyes. "Just drink it. When you're through, leave a few dollars on the bar and get out of here." He began to move away from me, still wiping down the bar.

  "Wait," I said, trying to be quiet. "What's your name?"

  He grinned at me. "You don't know? It's Mack. Mack Heathrow. This is my bar, which makes you my customer, which means I'm in charge. Now do what I said, and I'll see you tomorrow."

  He walked away before I could ask him anything else. I looked around at the other customers and didn't see anyone who looked particularly suspicious. They all looked a little odd, but no one seemed out of place. Certainly none of them were watching us; they were all far too absorbed with whatever they were doing.

  I swallowed my drink, almost gagging on whatever it was he'd poured for me, then hurried out of the bar before Mack could change his mind about meeting with me.

  * * *

  CHAPTER

  SEVEN

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  I checked the time on my phone again. It was ten after the hour, and Mack still hadn't shown himself. Maybe he wasn't coming.

  I slipped my phone back into my pocket and crossed my arms over my chest, tapping my foot impatiently on the ground. It wouldn't bother me if he was late, so long as I knew that I wasn't waiting around for nothing.

  I looked in the window of Knobs and Broomsticks, eying a particularly nice broom featured for their display. It was about three feet long with a mahogany handle and long straw bristles perfect for sweeping or catching the air just right if you were riding it long distances.

  I'd only just begun to explore the idea of riding broomsticks to travel. Most witches and wizards no longer traveled like that, preferring the comfort of an airplane or even a ship to brooms. They were still those, however, who liked the feel of the wind in their hair, and for short distances, there was nothing easier than a broom.

  Although the shop was geared toward witches and wizards, it attracted human tourists more than anyone. I couldn't quite understand why. It was like the humans thought the idea of making fine, expensive brooms was a novelty they couldn't return home without. Luckily for them, Knobs and Broomsticks kept a wide selection of brooms specifically for humans. They were identical to the witch's brooms in every way but one—they could not perform magic.

  A child screamed in the distance, crying over the ice cream their mother refused to buy them. A car horn beeped, and I turned around to scan the streets again for Mack. It was twelve-fifteen now. If he wasn't here by twelve-thirty, I was going bac
k to work.

  Just across the street, I saw Natalie Vargas walk out of a clothing boutique. She came out empty-handed, looked around, and decided to cross the street. She looked in both directions before taking a step. There were no cars in sight, especially since there were so few cars driven on the island to begin with. Most of the cars we did have here came from the tourists, who couldn't get it through their heads that they didn't have to drive a half-mile to reach their destination, they could just walk it.

  I laughed. The tourists weren't the only ones who couldn't get that through their heads. Colt had never quite gotten it through his, either. Although he had a better excuse for driving his car around town—he was a detective. Not a local detective, but a detective nevertheless. Lawmen tended to keep their vehicles with them at all times. Even Sheriff Knoxx drove his car around Sweetland most of the time.

  If an emergency situation arose, Sheriff Knoxx wanted to be able to get there as quickly as possible. Not every call he received was a half-mile away. If he had to go somewhere outside of town, like Beggars Forest, that was a full mile. Whisper Crossing, which marked the mid-point between Sweetland Cove and Mistmoor Point, was about an hour's drive at high speed. It made sense that he would want his car with him.

  Natalie stopped halfway across the street. She was looking at me. I waved to her. Instead of waving back, however, she turned around. She started back the way she'd come, pretending like she hadn't seen me in the first place.

  I took a step in her direction, hesitated, then decided there was no point in going after her. She was being weird, but if she didn't want to talk to me then that was her prerogative.